'I hope when you come to the country you will make Woodbourne your
headquarters?'

'Certainly; I was afraid you were going to forbid me. But we must
go to breakfast now or I shall be too late.'

On the following day the new friends parted, and the Colonel
rejoined his family without any adventure worthy of being detailed
in these chapters.




CHAPTER XL

     Can no rest find me, no private place secure me,
     But still my miseries like bloodhounds haunt me?
     Unfortunate young man, which way now guides thee,
     Guides thee from death? The country's laid around for thee.

          Women Pleased.


Our narrative now recalls us for a moment to the period when young
Hazlewood received his wound. That accident had no sooner happened
than the consequences to Miss Mannering and to himself rushed upon
Brown's mind. From the manner in which the muzzle of the piece was
pointed when it went off, he had no great fear that the
consequences would be fatal. But an arrest in a strange country,
and while he was unprovided with any means of establishing his
rank and character, was at least to be avoided. He therefore
resolved to escape for the present to the neighbouring coast of
England, and to remain concealed there, if possible, until he
should receive letters from his regimental friends, and
remittances from his agent; and then to resume his own character,
and offer to young Hazlewood and his friends any explanation or
satisfaction they might desire. With this purpose he walked
stoutly forward, after leaving the spot where the accident had
happened, and reached without adventure the village which we have
called Portanferry (but which the reader will in vain seek for
under that name in the county map). A large open boat was just
about to leave the quay, bound for the little seaport of Allonby,
in Cumberland. In this vessel Brown embarked, and resolved to make
that place his temporary abode, until he should receive letters
and money from England.

In the course of their short voyage he entered into some
conversation with the steersman, who was also owner of the boat, a
jolly old man, who had occasionally been engaged in the smuggling
trade, like most fishers on the coast. After talking about objects
of less interest, Brown endeavoured to turn the discourse toward
the Mannering family. The sailor had heard of the attack upon the
house at Woodbourne, but disapproved of the smugglers'
proceedings.

'Hands off is fair play; zounds, they'll bring the whole country
down upon them. Na, na! when I was in that way I played at giff-
gaff with the officers: here a cargo taen--vera weel, that was
their luck; there another carried clean through, that was mine;
na, na! hawks shouldna pike out hawks' een.'

'And this Colonel Mannering?' said Brown.

'Troth, he's nae wise man neither, to interfere; no that I blame
him for saving the gangers' lives, that was very right; but it
wasna like a gentleman to be righting about the poor folk's pocks
o' tea and brandy kegs. However, he's a grand man and an officer
man, and they do what they like wi' the like o' us.'

'And his daughter,' said Brown, with a throbbing heart, 'is going
to be married into a great family too, as I have heard?'

'What, into the Hazlewoods'?' said the pilot. 'Na, na, that's but
idle clashes; every Sabbath day, as regularly as it came round,
did the young man ride hame wi' the daughter of the late
Ellangowan; and my daughter Peggy's in the service up at
Woodbourne, and she says she's sure young Hazlewood thinks nae
mair of Miss Mannering than you do.'

Bitterly censuring his own precipitate adoption of a contrary
belief, Brown yet heard with delight that the suspicions of
Julia's fidelity, upon which he had so rashly acted, were probably
void of foundation. How must he in the meantime be suffering in
her opinion? or what could she suppose of conduct which must have
made him appear to her regardless alike of her peace of mind and
of the interests of their affection? The old man's connexion with
the family at Woodbourne seemed to offer a safe mode of
communication, of which he determined to avail himself.

'Your daughter is a maid-servant at Woodbourne? I knew Miss
Mannering in India, and, though I am at present in an inferior
rank of life, I have great reason to hope she would interest
herself in my favour. I had a quarrel unfortunately with her
father, who was my commanding officer, and I am sure the young
lady would endeavour to reconcile him to me. Perhaps your daughter
could deliver a letter to her upon the subject, without making
mischief between her father and her?'

The old man, a friend to smuggling of every kind, readily answered
for the letter's being faithfully and secretly delivered; and,
accordingly, as soon as they arrived at Allonby Brown wrote to
Miss Mannering, stating the utmost contrition for what had
happened through his rashness, and conjuring her to let him have
an opportunity of pleading his own cause, and obtaining
forgiveness for his indiscretion. He did not judge it safe to go
into any detail concerning the circumstances by which he had been
misled, and upon the whole endeavcured to express himself with
such ambiguity that, if the letter should fall into wrong hands,
it would be difficult either to understand its real purport or to
trace the writer. This letter the old man undertook faithfully to
deliver to his daughter at Woodbourne; and, as his trade would
speedily again bring him or his boat to Allonby, he promised
farther to take charge of any answer with which the young lady
might entrust him.

And now our persecuted traveller landed at Allonby, and sought for
such accommodations as might at once suit his temporary poverty
and his desire of remaining as much unobserved as possible. With
this view he assumed the name and profession of his friend Dudley,
having command enough of the pencil to verify his pretended
character to his host of Allonby. His baggage he pretended to
expect from Wigton; and keeping himself as much within doors as
possible, awaited the return of the letters which he had sent to
his agent, to Delaserre, and to his lieutenant-colonel. From the
first he requested a supply of money; he conjured Delaserre, if
possible, to join him in Scotland; and from the lieutenant-colonel
he required such testimony of his rank and conduct in the regiment
as should place his character as a gentleman and officer beyond
the power of question. The inconvenience of being run short in his
finances struck him so strongly that he wrote to Dinmont on that
subject, requesting a small temporary loan, having no doubt that,
being within sixty or seventy miles of his residence, he should
receive a speedy as well as favourable answer to his request of
pecuniary accommodation, which was owing, as he stated, to his
having been robbed after their parting. And then, with impatience
enough, though without any serious apprehension, he waited the
answers of these various letters.

It must be observed, in excuse of his correspondents, that the
post was then much more tardy than since Mr. Palmer's ingenious
invention has taken place; and with respect to honest Dinmont in
particular, as he rarely received above one letter a quarter
(unless during the time of his being engaged in a law-suit, when
he regularly sent to the post-town), his correspondence usually
remained for a month or two sticking in the postmaster's window
among pamphlets, gingerbread, rolls, or ballads, according to the
trade which the said postmaster exercised. Besides, there was then
a custom, not yet wholly obsolete, of causing a letter from one
town to another, perhaps within the distance of thirty miles,
perform a circuit of two hundred miles before delivery; which had
the combined advantage of airing the epistle thoroughly, of adding
some pence to the revenue of the post-office, and of exercising
the patience of the correspondents. Owing to these circumstances
Brown remained several days in Allonby without any answers
whatever, and his stock of money, though husbanded with the utmost
economy, began to wear very low, when he received by the hands of
a young fisherman the following letter:--

'You have acted with the most cruel indiscretion; you have shown
how little I can trust to your declarations that my peace and
happiness are dear to you; and your rashness has nearly occasioned
the death of a young man of the highest worth and honour. Must I
say more? must I add that I have been myself very ill in
consequence of your violence and its effects? And, alas! need I
say still farther, that I have thought anxiously upon them as they
are likely to affect you, although you have given me such slight
cause to do so? The C. is gone from home for several days, Mr. H.
is almost quite recovered, and I have reason to think that the
blame is laid in a quarter different from that where it is
deserved. Yet do not think of venturing here. Our fate has been
crossed by accidents of a nature too violent and terrible to
permit me to think of renewing a correspondence which has so often
threatened the most dreadful catastrophe. Farewell, therefore, and
believe that no one can wish your happiness more sincerely than

    'J. M.'

This letter contained that species of advice which is frequently
given for the precise purpose that it may lead to a directly
opposite conduct from that which it recommends. At least so
thought Brown, who immediately asked the young fisherman if he
came from Portanferry.

'Ay,' said the lad; 'I am auld Willie Johnstone's son, and I got
that letter frae my sister Peggy, that's laundry maid at
Woodbourne.'

'My good friend, when do you sail?'

'With the tide this evening.'

'I'll return with you; but, as I do not desire to go to
Portanferry, I wish you could put me on shore somewhere on the
coast.'

'We can easily do that,' said the lad.

Although the price of provisions, etc., was then very moderate,
the discharging his lodgings, and the expense of his living,
together with that of a change of dress, which safety as well as a
proper regard to his external appearance rendered necessary,
brought Brown's purse to a very low ebb. He left directions at the
post-office that his letters should be forwarded to Kippletringan,
whither he resolved to proceed and reclaim the treasure which he
had deposited in the hands of Mrs. MacCandlish. He also felt it
would be his duty to assume his proper character as soon as he
should receive the necessary evidence for supporting it, and, as
an officer in the king's service, give and receive every
explanation which might be necessary with young Hazlewood. 'If he
is not very wrong-headed indeed,' he thought, 'he must allow the
manner in which I acted to have been the necessary consequence of
his own overbearing conduct.'

And now we must suppose him once more embarked on the Solway
Firth. The wind was adverse, attended by some rain, and they
struggled against it without much assistance from the tide. The
boat was heavily laden with goods (part of which were probably
contraband), and laboured deep in the sea. Brown, who had been
bred a sailor, and was indeed skilled in most athletic exercises,
gave his powerful and effectual assistance in rowing, or
occasionally in steering the boat, and his advice in the
management, which became the more delicate as the wind increased,
and, being opposed to the very rapid tides of that coast, made the
voyage perilous. At length, after spending the whole night upon
the firth, they were at morning within sight of a beautiful bay
upon the Scottish coast. The weather was now more mild. The snow,
which had been for some time waning, had given way entirely under
the fresh gale of the preceding night. The more distant hills,
indeed, retained their snowy mantle, but all the open country was
cleared, unless where a few white patches indicated that it had
been drifted to an uncommon depth. Even under its wintry
appearance the shore was highly interesting. The line of sea-
coast, with all its varied curves, indentures, and embayments,
swept away from the sight on either hand, in that varied,
intricate, yet graceful and easy line which the eye loves so well
to pursue. And it was no less relieved and varied in elevation
than in outline by the different forms of the shore, the beach in
some places being edged by steep rocks, and in others rising
smoothly from the sands in easy and swelling slopes. Buildings of
different kinds caught and reflected the wintry sunbeams of a
December morning, and the woods, though now leafless, gave relief
and variety to the landscape. Brown felt that lively and awakening
interest which taste and sensibility always derive from the
beauties of nature when opening suddenly to the eye after the
dulness and gloom of a night voyage. Perhaps--for who can presume
to analyse that inexplicable feeling which binds the person born
in a mountainous country to, his native hills--perhaps some early
associations, retaining their effect long after the cause was
forgotten, mingled in the feelings of pleasure with which he
regarded the scene before him.

'And what,' said Brown to the boatman, 'is the name of that fine
cape that stretches into the sea with its sloping banks and
hillocks of wood, and forms the right side of the bay?'

'Warroch Point,' answered the lad.

'And that old castle, my friend, with the modern house situated
just beneath it? It seems at this distance a very large building.'

'That's the Auld Place, sir; and that's the New Place below it.
We'll land you there if you like.'

'I should like it of all things. I must visit that ruin before I
continue my journey.'

'Ay, it's a queer auld bit,' said the fisherman; 'and that highest
tower is a gude landmark as far as Ramsay in Man and the Point of
Ayr; there was muckle fighting about the place lang syne.'

Brown would have inquired into farther particulars, but a
fisherman is seldom an antiquary. His boatman's local knowledge
was summed up in the information already given, 'that it was a
grand landmark, and that there had been muckle fighting about the
bit lang syne.'

'I shall learn more of it,' said Brown to himself, 'when I get
ashore.'

The boat continued its course close under the point upon which the
castle was situated, which frowned from the summit of its rocky
site upon the still agitated waves of the bay beneath. 'I
believe,' said the steersman, 'ye'll get ashore here as dry as ony
gate. There's a place where their berlins and galleys, as they
ca'd them, used to lie in lang syne, but it's no used now, because
it's ill carrying gudes up the narrow stairs or ower the rocks.
Whiles of a moonlight night I have landed articles there, though.'

While he thus spoke they pulled round a point of rock, and found a
very small harbour, partly formed by nature, partly by the
indefatigable labour of the ancient inhabitants of the castle,
who, as the fisherman observed, had found it essential for the
protection of their boats and small craft, though it could not
receive vessels of any burden. The two points of rock which formed
the access approached each other so nearly that only one boat
could enter at a time. On each side were still remaining two
immense iron rings, deeply morticed into the solid rock. Through
these, according to tradition, there was nightly drawn a huge
chain, secured by an immense padlock, for the protection of the
haven and the armada which it contained. A ledge of rock had, by
the assistance of the chisel and pickaxe, been formed into a sort
of quay. The rock was of extremely hard consistence, and the task
so difficult that, according to the fisherman, a labourer who
wrought at the work might in the evening have carried home in his
bonnet all the shivers which he had struck from the mass in the
course of the day. This little quay communicated with a rude
staircase, already repeatedly mentioned, which descended from the
old castle. There was also a communication between the beach and
the quay, by scrambling over the rocks.

'Ye had better land here,' said the lad, 'for the surf's running
high at the Shellicoat Stane, and there will no be a dry thread
amang us or we get the cargo out. Na! na! (in answer to an offer
of money) ye have wrought for your passage, and wrought far better
than ony o' us. Gude day to ye; I wuss ye weel.'

So saying, he pushed oil in order to land his cargo on the
opposite side of the bay; and Brown, with a small bundle in his
hand, containing the trifling stock of necessaries which he had
been obliged to purchase at Allonby, was left on the rocks beneath
the ruin.

And thus, unconscious as the most absolute stranger, and in
circumstances which, if not destitute, were for the present highly
embarrassing, without the countenance of a friend within the
circle of several hundred miles, accused of a heavy crime, and,
what was as bad as all the rest, being nearly penniless, did the
harassed wanderer for the first time after the interval of so many
years approach the remains of the castle where his ancestors had
exercised all but regal dominion.




CHAPTER XLI

          Yes ye moss-green walls,
     Ye towers defenceless, I revisit ye
     Shame-stricken! Where are all your trophies now?
     Your thronged courts, the revelry, the tumult,
     That spoke the grandeur of my house, the homage
     Of neighbouring barons?

          Mysterious Mother.


Entering the castle of Ellangowan by a postern doorway which
showed symptoms of having been once secured with the most jealous
care, Brown (whom, since he has set foot upon the property of his
fathers, we shall hereafter call by his father's name of Bertram)
wandered from one ruined apartment to another, surprised at the
massive strength of some parts of the building, the rude and
impressive magnificence of others, and the great extent of the
whole. In two of these rooms, close beside each other, he saw
signs of recent habitation. In one small apartment were empty
bottles, half-gnawed bones, and dried fragments of bread. In the
vault which adjoined, and which was defended by a strong door,
then left open, he observed a considerable quantity of straw, and
in both were the relics of recent fires. How little was it
possible for Bertram to conceive that such trivial circumstances
were closely connected with incidents affecting his prosperity,
his honour, perhaps his life!

After satisfying his curiosity by a hasty glance through the
interior of the castle, Bertram now advanced through the great
gateway which opened to the land, and paused to look upon the
noble landscape which it commanded. Having in vain endeavoured to
guess the position of Woodbourne, and having nearly ascertained
that of Kippletringan, he turned to take a parting look at the
stately ruins which he had just traversed. He admired the massive
and picturesque effect of the huge round towers, which, flanking
the gateway, gave a double portion of depth and majesty to the
high yet gloomy arch under which it opened. The carved stone
escutcheon of the ancient family, bearing for their arms three
wolves' heads, was hung diagonally beneath the helmet and crest,
the latter being a wolf couchant pierced with an arrow. On either
side stood as supporters, in full human size or larger, a salvage
man PROPER, to use the language of heraldry, WREATHED AND
CINCTURED, and holding in his hand an oak tree ERADICATED, that
is, torn up by the roots.

'And the powerful barons who owned this blazonry,' thought
Bertram, pursuing the usual train of ideas which flows upon the
mind at such scenes--'do their posterity continue to possess the
lands which they had laboured to fortify so strongly? or are they
wanderers, ignorant perhaps even of the fame or power of their
fore-fathers, while their hereditary possessions are held by a
race of strangers? Why is it,' he thought, continuing to follow
out the succession of ideas which the scene prompted--'why is it
that some scenes awaken thoughts which belong as it were to dreams
of early and shadowy recollection, such as my old Brahmin moonshie
would have ascribed to a state of previous existence? Is it the
visions of our sleep that float confusedly in our memory, and are
recalled by the appearance of such real objects as in any respect
correspond to the phantoms they presented to our imagination? How
often do we find ourselves in society which we have never before
met, and yet feel impressed with a mysterious and ill-defined
consciousness that neither the scene, the speakers, nor the
subject are entirely new; nay, feel as if we could anticipate that
part of the conversation which has not yet taken place! It is even
so with me while I gaze upon that ruin; nor can I divest myself of
the idea that these massive towers and that dark gateway, retiring
through its deep-vaulted and ribbed arches, and dimly lighted by
the courtyard beyond, are not entirely strange to me. Can it be
that they have been familiar to me in infancy, and that I am to
seek in their vicinity those friends of whom my childhood has
still a tender though faint remembrance, and whom I early
exchanged for such severe task-masters? Yet Brown, who, I think,
would not have deceived me, always told me I was brought off from
the eastern coast, after a skirmish in which my father was killed;
and I do remember enough of a horrid scene of violence to
strengthen his account.'

It happened that the spot upon which young Bertram chanced to
station himself for the better viewing the castle was nearly the
same on which his father had died. It was marked by a large old
oak-tree, the only one on the esplanade, and which, having been
used for executions by the barons of Ellangowan, was called the
Justice Tree. It chanced, and the coincidence was remarkable, that
Glossin was this morning engaged with a person whom he was in the
habit of consulting in such matters concerning some projected
repairs and a large addition to the house of Ellangowan, and that,
having no great pleasure in remains so intimately connected with
the grandeur of the former inhabitants, he had resolved to use the
stones of the ruinous castle in his new edifice. Accordingly he
came up the bank, followed by the land-surveyor mentioned on a
former occasion, who was also in the habit of acting as a sort of
architect in case of necessity. In drawing the plans, etc.,
Glossin was in the custom of relying upon his own skill. Bertram's
back was towards them as they came up the ascent, and he was quite
shrouded by the branches of the large tree, so that Glossin was
not aware of the presence of the stranger till he was close upon
him.

'Yes, sir, as I have often said before to you, the Old Place is a
perfect quarry of hewn stone, and it would be better for the
estate if it were all down, since it is only a den for smugglers.'
At this instant Bertram turned short round upon Glossin at the
distance of two yards only, and said--'Would you destroy this fine
old castle, sir?'

His face, person, and voice were so exactly those of his father in
his best days, that Glossin, hearing his exclamation, and seeing
such a sudden apparition in the shape of his patron, and on nearly
the very spot where he had expired, almost thought the grave had
given up its dead! He staggered back two or three paces, as if he
had received a sudden and deadly wound. He instantly recovered,
however, his presence of mind, stimulated by the thrilling
reflection that it was no inhabitant of the other world which
stood before him, but an injured man whom the slightest want of
dexterity on his part might lead to acquaintance with his rights,
and the means of asserting them to his utter destruction. Yet his
ideas were so much confused by the shock he had received that his
first question partook of the alarm.

'In the name of God, how came you here?' said Glossin.

'How came I here?' repeated Bertram, surprised at the solemnity of
the address; 'I landed a quarter of an hour since in the little
harbour beneath the castle, and was employing a moment's leisure
in viewing these fine ruins. I trust there is no intrusion?'

'Intrusion, sir? No, sir,' said Glossin, in some degree recovering
his breath, and then whispered a few words into his companion's
ear, who immediately left him and descended towards the house.
'Intrusion, sir? no, sir; you or any gentleman are welcome to
satisfy your curiosity.'

'I thank you, sir,' said Bertram. 'They call this the Old Place, I
am informed?'

'Yes, sir; in distinction to the New Place, my house there below.'

Glossin, it must be remarked, was, during the following dialogue,
on the one hand eager to learn what local recollections young
Bertram had retained of the scenes of his infancy, and on the
other compelled to be extremely cautious in his replies, lest he
should awaken or assist, by some name, phrase, or anecdote, the
slumbering train of association. He suffered, indeed, during the
whole scene the agonies which he so richly deserved; yet his pride
and interest, like the fortitude of a North American Indian,
manned him to sustain the tortures inflicted at once by the
contending stings of a guilty conscience, of hatred, of fear, and
of suspicion.

'I wish to ask the name, sir,' said Bertram, 'of the family to
whom this stately ruin belongs.'

'It is my property, sir; my name is Glossin.'

'Glossin--Glossin?' repeated Bertram, as if the answer were
somewhat different from what he expected. 'I beg your pardon, Mr.
Glossin; I am apt to be very absent. May I ask if the castle has
been long in your family?'

'It was built, I believe, long ago by a family called Mac-
Dingawaie,' answered Glossin, suppressing for obvious reasons the
more familiar sound of Bertram, which might have awakened the
recollections which he was anxious to lull to rest, and slurring
with an evasive answer the question concerning the endurance of
his own possession.

'And how do you read the half-defaced motto, sir,' said Bertram,
'which is upon that scroll above the entablature with the arms?'

'I--I--I really do not exactly know,' replied Glossin.

'I should be apt to make it out, OUR RIGHT MAKES OUR MIGHT.'

'I believe it is something of that kind,' said Glossin.

'May I ask, sir,' said the stranger, 'if it is your family motto?'

'N--n--no--no--not ours. That is, I believe, the motto of the
former people; mine is--mine is--in fact, I have had some
correspondence with Mr. Cumming of the Lyon Office in Edinburgh
about mine. He writes me the Glossins anciently bore for a motto,
"He who takes it, makes it."'

'If there be any uncertainty, sir, and the case were mine,' said
Bertram, 'I would assume the old motto, which seems to me the
better of the two.'

Glossin, whose tongue by this time clove to the roof of his mouth,
only answered by a nod.

'It is odd enough,' said Bertram, fixing his eye upon the arms and
gateway, and partly addressing Glossin, partly as it were thinking
aloud--'it is odd the tricks which our memory plays us. The
remnants of an old prophecy, or song, or rhyme of some kind or
other, return to my recollection on hearing that motto; stay--it
is a strange jingle of sounds:--

     The dark shall be light,
     And the wrong made right,
     When Bertram's right and Bertram's might
     Shall meet on---

I cannot remember the last line--on some particular height; HEIGHT
is the rhyme, I am sure; but I cannot hit upon the preceding
word.'

'Confound your memory,' muttered Glossin, 'you remember by far too
much of it!'

'There are other rhymes connected with these early recollections,'
continued the young man. 'Pray, sir, is there any song current in
this part of the world respecting a daughter of the King of the
Isle of Man eloping with a Scottish knight?'

'I am the worst person in the world to consult upon legendary
antiquities,' answered Glossin.

'I could sing such a ballad,' said Bertram, 'from one end to
another when I was a boy. You must know I left Scotland, which is
my native country, very young, and those who brought me up
discouraged all my attempts to preserve recollection of my native
land, on account, I believe, of a boyish wish which I had to
escape from their charge.'

'Very natural,' said Glossin, but speaking as if his utmost
efforts were unable to unseal his lips beyond the width of a
quarter of an inch, so that his whole utterance was a kind of
compressed muttering, very different from the round, bold,
bullying voice with which he usually spoke. Indeed, his appearance
and demeanour during all this conversation seemed to diminish even
his strength and stature; so that he appeared to wither into the
shadow of himself, now advancing one foot, now the other, now
stooping and wriggling his shoulders, now fumbling with the
buttons of his waistcoat, now clasping his hands together; in
short, he was the picture of a mean-spirited, shuffling rascal in
the very agonies of detection. To these appearances Bertram was
totally inattentive, being dragged on as it were by the current of
his own associations. Indeed, although he addressed Glossin, he
was not so much thinking of him as arguing upon the embarrassing
state of his own feelings and recollection. 'Yes,' he said, 'I
preserved my language among the sailors, most of whom spoke
English, and when I could get into a corner by myself I used to
sing all that song over from beginning to end; I have forgot it
all now, but I remember the tune well, though I cannot guess what
should at present so strongly recall it to my memory.'

He took his flageolet from his pocket and played a simple melody.
Apparently the tune awoke the corresponding associations of a
damsel who, close beside a fine spring about halfway down the
descent, and which had once supplied the castle with water, was
engaged in bleaching linen. She immediately took up the song:--

     'Are these the Links of Forth, she said,
       Or are they the crooks of Dee,
     Or the bonnie woods of Warroch Head
       That I so fain would see?'

'By heaven,' said Bertram, 'it is the very ballad! I must learn
these words from the girl.'

'Confusion!' thought Glossin; 'if I cannot put a stop to this all
will be out. O the devil take all ballads and ballad-makers and
ballad-singers! and that d--d jade too, to set up her pipe!'--'You
will have time enough for this on some other occasion,' he said
aloud; 'at present' (for now he saw his emissary with two or three
men coming up the bank)--'at present we must have some more
serious conversation together.'

'How do you mean, sir?' said Bertram, turning short upon him, and
not liking the tone which he made use of.

'Why, sir, as to that--I believe your name is Brown?' said
Glossin. 'And what of that, sir?'

Glossin looked over his shoulder to see how near his party had
approached; they were coming fast on. 'Vanbeest Brown? if I
mistake not.'

'And what of that, sir?' said Bertram, with increasing
astonishment and displeasure.

'Why, in that case,' said Glossin, observing his friends had now
got upon the level space close beside them--'in that case you are
my prisoner in the king's name!' At the same time he stretched his
hand towards Bertram's collar, while two of the men who had come
up seized upon his arms; he shook himself, however, free of their
grasp by a violent effort, in which he pitched the most
pertinacious down the bank, and, drawing his cutlass, stood on the
defensive, while those who had felt his strength recoiled from his
presence and gazed at a safe distance. 'Observe,' he called out at
the same time, 'that I have no purpose to resist legal authority;
satisfy me that you have a magistrate's warrant, and are
authorised to make this arrest, and I will obey it quietly; but
let no man who loves his life venture to approach me till I am
satisfied for what crime, and by whose authority, I am
apprehended.'

Glossin then caused one of the officers show a warrant for the
apprehension of Vanbeest Brown, accused of the crime of wilfully
and maliciously shooting at Charles Hazlewood, younger of
Hazlewood, with an intent to kill, and also of other crimes and
misdemeanours, and which appointed him, having been so
apprehended, to be brought before the next magistrate for
examination. The warrant being formal, and the fact such as he
could not deny, Bertram threw down his weapon and submitted
himself to the officers, who, flying on him with eagerness
corresponding to their former pusillanimity, were about to load
him with irons, alleging the strength and activity which he had
displayed as a justification of this severity. But Glossin was
ashamed or afraid to permit this unnecessary insult, and directed
the prisoner to be treated with all the decency, and even respect,
that was consistent with safety. Afraid, however, to introduce him
into his own house, where still further subjects of recollection
might have been suggested, and anxious at the same time to cover
his own proceedings by the sanction of another's authority, he
ordered his carriage (for he had lately set up a carriage) to be
got ready, and in the meantime directed refreshments to be given
to the prisoner and the officers, who were consigned to one of the
rooms in the old castle, until the means of conveyance for
examination before a magistrate should be provided.




CHAPTER XLII

     Bring in the evidence.
     Thou robed man of justice, take thy place,
     And thou, his yoke-fellow of equity,
     Bench by his side; you are of the commission,
     Sit you too.

          King Lear.


While the carriage was getting ready, Glossin had a letter to
compose, about which he wasted no small time. It was to his
neighbour, as he was fond of calling him, Sir Robert Hazlewood of
Hazlewood, the head of an ancient and powerful interest in the
county, which had in the decadence of the Ellangowan family
gradually succeeded to much of their authority and influence. The
present representative of the family was an elderly man, dotingly
fond of his own family, which was limited to an only son and
daughter, and stoically indifferent to the fate of all mankind
besides. For the rest, he was honourable in his general dealings
because he was afraid to suffer the censure of the world, and just
from a better motive. He was presumptuously over-conceited on the
score of family pride and importance, a feeling considerably
enhanced by his late succession to the title of a Nova Scotia
baronet; and he hated the memory of the Ellangowan family, though
now a memory only, because a certain baron of that house was
traditionally reported to have caused the founder of the Hazlewood
family hold his stirrup until he mounted into his saddle. In his
general deportment he was pompous and important, affecting a
species of florid elocution, which often became ridiculous from
his misarranging the triads and quaternions with which he loaded
his sentences.

To this personage Glossin was now to write in such a conciliatory
style as might be most acceptable to his vanity and family pride,
and the following was the form of his note:--

'Mr. Gilbert Glossin' (he longed to add of Ellangowan, but
prudence prevailed, and he suppressed that territorial
designation)--'Mr. Gilbert Glossin has the honour to offer his
most respectful compliments to Sir Robert Hazlewood, and to inform
him that he has this morning been fortunate enough to secure the
person who wounded Mr. C. Hazlewood. As Sir Robert Hazlewood may
probably choose to conduct the examination of this criminal
himself, Mr. G. Glossin will cause the man to be carried to the
inn at Kippletringan or to Hazlewood House, as Sir Robert
Hazlewood may be pleased to direct. And, with Sir Robert
Hazlewood's permission, Mr. G. Glossin will attend him at either
of these places with the proofs and declarations which he has been
so fortunate as to collect respecting this atrocious business.'

     Addressed,

     'Sir ROBERT HAZLEWOOD of Hazlewood, Bart.
     'Hazlewood House, etc. etc.

     'ELLN GN.

     'Tuesday.'

This note he despatched by a servant on horseback, and having
given the man some time to get ahead, and desired him to ride
fast, he ordered two officers of justice to get into the carriage
with Bertram; and he himself, mounting his horse, accompanied them
at a slow pace to the point where the roads to Kippletringan and
Hazlewood House separated, and there awaited the return of his
messenger, in order that his farther route might be determined by
the answer he should receive from the Baronet. In about half an
hour, his servant returned with the following answer, handsomely
folded, and sealed with the Hazlewood arms, having the Nova Scotia
badge depending from the shield:--

'Sir Robert Hazlewood of Hazlewood returns Mr. G. Glossin's
compliments, and thanks him for the trouble he has taken in a
matter affecting the safety of Sir Robert's family. Sir R.H.
requests Mr, G.G. will have the goodness to bring the prisoner to
Hazlewood House for examination, with the other proofs or
declarations which he mentions. And after the business is over, in
case Mr. G.G. is not otherwise engaged, Sir R. and Lady Hazlewood
request his company to dinner.'

     Addressed,

     'Mr. GILBERT GLOSSIN, etc.
     'HAZLEWOOD HOUSE, Tuesday.'

'Soh!' thought Mr. Glossin, 'here is one finger in at least, and
that I will make the means of introducing my whole hand. But I
must first get clear of this wretched young fellow. I think I can
manage Sir Robert. He is dull and pompous, and will be alike
disposed to listen to my suggestions upon the law of the case and
to assume the credit of acting upon them as his own proper motion.
So I shall have the advantage of being the real magistrate,
without the odium of responsibility.'

As he cherished these hopes and expectations, the carriage
approached Hazlewood House through a noble avenue of old oaks,
which shrouded the ancient abbey-resembling building so called. It
was a large edifice, built at different periods, part having
actually been a priory, upon the suppression of which, in the time
of Queen Mary, the first of the family had obtained a gift of the
house and surrounding lands from the crown. It was pleasantly
situated in a large deer-park, on the banks of the river we have
before mentioned. The scenery around was of a dark, solemn, and
somewhat melancholy cast, according well with the architecture of
the house. Everything appeared to be kept in the highest possible
order, and announced the opulence and rank of the proprietor.

As Mr. Glossin's carriage stopped at the door of the hall, Sir
Robert reconnoitred the new vehicle from the windows. According to
his aristocratic feelings, there was a degree of presumption in
this novus homo, this Mr. Gilbert Glossin, late writer in---,
presuming to set up such an accommodation at all; but his wrath
was mitigated when he observed that the mantle upon the panels
only bore a plain cipher of G.G. This apparent modesty was indeed
solely owing to the delay of Mr. Gumming of the Lyon Office, who,
being at that time engaged in discovering and matriculating the
arms of two commissaries from North America, three English-Irish
peers, and two great Jamaica traders, had been more slow than
usual in finding an escutcheon for the new Laird of Ellangowan.
But his delay told to the advantage of Glossin in the opinion of
the proud Baronet.

While the officers of justice detained their prisoner in a sort of
steward's room, Mr. Glossin was ushered into what was called the
great oak-parlour, a long room, panelled with well-varnished
wainscot, and adorned with the grim portraits of Sir Robert
Hazlewood's ancestry. The visitor, who had no internal
consciousness of worth to balance that of meanness of birth, felt
his inferiority, and by the depth of his bow and the
obsequiousness of his demeanour showed that the Laird of
Ellangowan was sunk for the time in the old and submissive habits
of the quondam retainer of the law. He would have persuaded
himself, indeed, that he was only humouring the pride of the old
Baronet for the purpose of turning it to his own advantage, but
his feelings were of a mingled nature, and he felt the influence
of those very prejudices which he pretended to flatter.

The Baronet received his visitor with that condescending parade
which was meant at once to assert his own vast superiority, and to
show the generosity and courtesy with which he could waive it, and
descend to the level of ordinary conversation with ordinary men.
He thanked Glossin for his attention to a matter in which 'young
Hazlewood' was so intimately concerned, and, pointing to his
family pictures, observed, with a gracious smile, 'Indeed, these
venerable gentlemen, Mr. Glossin, are as much obliged as I am in
this case for the labour, pains, care, and trouble which you have
taken in their behalf; and I have no doubt, were they capable of
expressing themselves, would join me, sir, in thanking you for the
favour you have conferred upon the house of Hazlewood by taking
care, and trouble, sir, and interest in behalf of the young
gentleman who is to continue their name and family.'

Thrice bowed Glossin, and each time more profoundly than before;
once in honour of the knight who stood upright before him, once in
respect to the quiet personages who patiently hung upon the
wainscot, and a third time in deference to the young gentleman who
was to carry on the name and family. Roturier as he was, Sir
Robert was gratified by the homage which he rendered, and
proceeded in a tone of gracious familiarity: 'And now, Mr.
Glossin, my exceeding good friend, you must allow me to avail
myself of your knowledge of law in our proceedings in this matter.
I am not much in the habit of acting as a justice of the peace; it
suits better with other gentlemen, whose domestic and family
affairs require less constant superintendence, attention, and
management than mine.'

Of course, whatever small assistance Mr. Glossin could render was
entirely at Sir Robert Hazlewood's service; but, as Sir Robert
Hazlewood's name stood high in the list of the faculty, the said
Mr. Glossin could not presume to hope it could be either necessary
or useful.

'Why, my good sir, you will understand me only to mean that I am
something deficient in the practical knowledge of the ordinary
details of justice business. I was indeed educated to the bar, and
might boast perhaps at one time that I had made some progress in
the speculative and abstract and abstruse doctrines of our
municipal code; but there is in the present day so little
opportunity of a man of family and fortune rising to that eminence
at the bar which is attained by adventurers who are as willing to
plead for John a' Nokes as for the first noble of the land, that I
was really early disgusted with practice. The first case, indeed,
which was laid on my table quite sickened me: it respected a
bargain, sir, of tallow between a butcher and a candlemaker; and I
found it was expected that I should grease my mouth not only with
their vulgar names, but with all the technical terms and phrases
and peculiar language of their dirty arts. Upon my honour, my good
sir, I have never been able to bear the smell of a tallow-candle
since.'

Pitying, as seemed to be expected, the mean use to which the
Baronet's faculties had been degraded on this melancholy occasion,
Mr. Glossin offered to officiate as clerk or assessor, or in any
way in which he could be most useful. 'And with a view to
possessing you of the whole business, and in the first place,
there will, I believe, be no difficulty in proving the main fact,
that this was the person who fired the unhappy piece. Should he
deny it, it can be proved by Mr. Hazlewood, I presume?'

'Young Hazlewood is not at home to-day, Mr. Glossin.'

'But we can have the oath of the servant who attended him,' said
the ready Mr. Glossin; 'indeed, I hardly think the fact will be
disputed. I am more apprehensive that, from the too favourable and
indulgent manner in which I have understood that Mr. Hazlewood has
been pleased to represent the business, the assault may be
considered as accidental, and the injury as unintentional, so that
the fellow may be immediately set at liberty to do more mischief.'

'I have not the honour to know the gentleman who now holds the
office of king's advocate,' replied Sir Robert, gravely; 'but I
presume, sir--nay, I am confident, that he will consider the mere
fact of having wounded young Hazlewood of Hazlewood, even by
inadvertency, to take the matter in its mildest and gentlest, and
in its most favourable and improbable, light, as a crime which
will be too easily atoned by imprisonment, and as more deserving
of deportation.'

'Indeed, Sir Robert,' said his assenting brother in justice, 'I am
entirely of your opinion; but, I don't know how it is, I have
observed the Edinburgh gentlemen of the bar, and even the officers
of the crown, pique themselves upon an indifferent administration
of justice, without respect to rank and family; and I should fear-
--'

'How, sir, without respect to rank and family? Will you tell me
THAT doctrine can be held by men of birth and legal education? No,
sir; if a trifle stolen in the street is termed mere pickery, but
is elevated into sacrilege if the crime be committed in a church,
so, according to the just gradations of society, the guilt of an
injury is enhanced by the rank of the person to whom it is
offered, done, or perpetrated, sir.'

Glossin bowed low to this declaration ex cathedra, but observed,
that in the case of the very worst, and of such unnatural
doctrines being actually held as he had already hinted, 'the law
had another hold on Mr. Vanbeest Brown.'

'Vanbeest Brown! is that the fellow's name? Good God! that young
Hazlewood of Hazlewood should have had his life endangered, the
clavicle of his right shoulder considerably lacerated and
dislodged, several large drops or slugs deposited in the acromion
process, as the account of the family surgeon expressly bears, and
all by an obscure wretch named Vanbeest Brown!'

'Why, really, Sir Robert, it is a thing which one can hardly bear
to think of; but, begging ten thousand pardons for resuming what I
was about to say, a person of the same name is, as appears from
these papers (producing Dirk Hatteraick's pocket-book), mate to
the smuggling vessel who offered such violence at Woodbourne, and
I have no doubt that this is the same individual; which, however,
your acute discrimination will easily be able to ascertain.'

'The same, my good sir, he must assuredly be; it would be
injustice even to the meanest of the people to suppose there could
be found among them TWO persons doomed to bear a name so shocking
to one's ears as this of Vanbeest Brown.' 'True, Sir Robert; most
unquestionably; there cannot be a shadow of doubt of it. But you
see farther, that this circumstance accounts for the man's
desperate conduct. You, Sir Robert, will discover the motive for
his crime--you, I say, will discover it without difficulty on your
giving your mind to the examination; for my part, I cannot help
suspecting the moving spring to have been revenge for the
gallantry with which Mr. Hazlewood, with all the spirit of his
renowned forefathers, defended the house at Woodbourne against
this villain and his lawless companions.'

'I will inquire into it, my good sir,' said the learned Baronet.
'Yet even now I venture to conjecture that I shall adopt the
solution or explanation of this riddle, enigma, or mystery which
you have in some degree thus started. Yes! revenge it must be;
and, good Heaven! entertained by and against whom? entertained,
fostered, cherished against young Hazlewood of Hazlewood, and in
part carried into effect, executed, and implemented by the hand of
Vanbeest Brown! These are dreadful days indeed, my worthy
neighbour (this epithet indicated a rapid advance in the Baronet's
good graces)--days when the bulwarks of society are shaken to
their mighty base, and that rank which forms, as it were, its
highest grace and ornament is mingled and confused with the viler
parts of the architecture. O, my good Mr. Gilbert Glossin, in my
time, sir, the use of swords and pistols, and such honourable
arms, was reserved by the nobility and gentry to themselves, and
the disputes of the vulgar were decided by the weapons which
nature had given them, or by cudgels cut, broken, or hewed out of
the next wood. But now, sir, the clouted shoe of the peasant galls
the kibe of the courtier. The lower ranks have their quarrels,
sir, and their points of honour, and their revenges, which they
must bring, forsooth, to fatal arbitrament. But well, well! it
will last my time. Let us have in this fellow, this Vanbeest
Brown, and make an end of him, at least for the present.'




CHAPTER XLIII

     'Twas he
     Gave heat unto the injury, which returned,
     Like a petard ill lighted, into the bosom
     Of him gave fire to't. Yet I hope his hurt
     Is not so dangerous but he may recover

          Fair Maid of the Inn.


The prisoner was now presented before the two worshipful
magistrates. Glossin, partly from some compunctious visitings, and
partly out of his cautious resolution to suffer Sir Robert
Hazlewood to be the ostensible manager of the whole examination,
looked down upon the table, and busied himself with reading and
arranging the papers respecting the business, only now and then
throwing in a skilful catchword as prompter, when he saw the
principal, and apparently most active, magistrate stand in need of
a hint. As for Sir Robert Hazlewood, he assumed on his part a
happy mixture of the austerity of the justice combined with the
display of personal dignity appertaining to the baronet of ancient
family.

'There, constables, let him stand there at the bottom of the
table. Be so good as look me in the face, sir, and raise your
voice as you answer the questions which I am going to put to you.'

'May I beg, in the first place, to know, sir, who it is that takes
the trouble to interrogate me?' said the prisoner; 'for the honest
gentlemen who have brought me here have not been pleased to
furnish any information upon that point.'